Nerf Gun Fight
by WaffleHouseRock
Summary: Dean comes home to a Nerf gun and a note. Wincest.


Dean trudged through the bunker's front door, tightly gripping grocery bags in both hands and keys in his mouth. He grunted past the keys and kicked the door shut behind him. Dean wished shopping hadn't become his chore. Ever since his whole "nesting" incident with Sam and the best goddamn burgers ever, Dean was left with most of the cooking. Which meant all of the grocery shopping.

At first, Sam hadn't trusted him to go alone, since his usual grocery list consisted of pie, Kraft Dinner, and a bottle of whiskey. But with the new kitchen at his disposal, Dean was more than willing to make just about anything. Even Sam's crazy health food recipes he had picked up at Stanford seemed possible. So Sam stopped going with Dean on his shopping trips, and eventually stopped opening the door for Dean when he came home. Dean couldn't even remember the last time Sam had unpacked a grocery bag, or even seen one.

Sure, Sam did the laundry and washed the dishes, but that did not help Dean as he carefully made his way down the bunker's huge flight of stairs. Dean was a one trip kind of guy, which meant he would risk falling down those stairs if it meant not going back to the car. If he fell, it would be Sam's fault anyway, for not helping.

The Sam who wasn't helping was the same that was currently nowhere to be seen, although all Dean could really see was one of his keys stuck out at an unfortunate angle from his mouth. There had been a fight last night, which had Dean sleeping alone and making breakfast for one that morning. So Sam was hiding. Typical.

Dean very narrowly missed running into the map table on his way to the kitchen, and not quite gracefully made it up the next short flight of stairs. At the top of the stairs, he stopped. Around the edge of the infernal key blocking his view, he had seen something large and blue on the table. Dean turned around, groceries still in hand, to get a better look.

Of course, the keys were still in the way, so Dean spat them on the ground. There was, in fact, something large and blue on the table.

It looked like a Nerf gun.

Dean squinted at the table, as if the gun would dematerialize if he looked at it long enough. He slowly walked over to the table and put his groceries on the floor next to it.

It was a Nerf gun. The most badass Nerf gun he had ever seen.

It looked more or less like a regular shotgun, except for a huge drum attached to the side. Dean could only suppose it held the bullets.

The Winchesters didn't own any Nerf guns. The only guns they had were the real deal, so Dean was more than puzzled by this new addition. As he picked it up to examine it, a note slid from the gun onto the table.

This was when he remembered that Sam still hadn't showed his face since Dean got home. His heartbeat quickened as he grabbed for the note, hoping it said what he thought it did.

_Dean,_

_This gun holds 35 bullets. Mine does too. Whoever gets more shots on the other gets to top tonight._

_Your ass is mine._

_Sam _

Oh yeah. This was the kind of shit Dean lived for, besides killing demons. He had been complaining about being bored for a week now, and he had thought that Sam hadn't been listening. Apparently he had been. Blood was pumping in Dean's ears as he scanned the room, groceries long forgotten. Dean was on high alert as he backed up against the nearest wall. He had to have a plan.

Sam already had the advantage because Dean had made a lot of noise shuffling around with his noisy grocery bags. Sam could also run like a bat out of Hell. Those long legs would have him out of a room before Dean would be able to take aim.

It would have to be stealth, then.

While Dean was formulating his plan and going over the floor plan of the bunker in his mind, he had been slowly making his way to the dizzying labyrinth of hallways that housed their bedrooms. Dean thought they were the perfect place for an action movie-style gun war, and he hoped Sam was thinking the same thing. As he approached the first corner, he stopped. Dean had to win this. Big brothers won, and that was just the way it was. So he closed his eyes, and took a deep breath to steady himself.

Dean felt a _thud_ in the middle of his back, like someone had poked him, and heard a soft _plunk_ as something lightweight hit the ground.

He turned around to be face to face with a Nerf dart, lying innocently in front of his feet.

"First blood, bitch."

Dean looked up from the floor and his eyes met with Sam's, peeking from the hallway Dean had just came through. Sam looked positively triumphant, with sparkling eyes and a wicked grin. He was breathing hard from all of his pent up excitement. Dean wanted to shove him against the wall and fuck him right there, but instead he took aim for Sam's head and fired. Three shots came blasting from his gun as Sam disappeared down the hallway. Dean thought he heard a faint cry of "no reloading!" as Sam put distance between them.

Sam had gotten the first shot, changed the rules of the game, and even had the nerve to call Dean a bitch. That was Dean's line.

So that's how he wanted to play. Dean ignored the newly imposed "no reloading" rule and stuffed Sam's dart into his pocket. He grabbed up his own fallen darts and slid them back into the empty chambers of the gun. If Sam wanted a chase, then a chase he would get.

Over the next 45 minutes Dean stalked Sam through the halls of their home, Sam's laughter giving him away again and again. Even as a kid he had never been good at hide and seek, always giving himself away before Dean had even been able to start looking. They ran through the halls, hiding in each other's bedrooms, and occasionally remembering to shoot at one another.

Sam had outshot Dean 11 to 9 so far, which was a pretty bad score considering they were both professional murderers. Excitement was high and danger was low, which meant that accuracy wasn't really required. Dean was having so much fun, he didn't even mind that he was losing. The promise of sex regardless of the battle's outcome had him taking his dismal situation in stride. And with Sam slowly running out of bullets, Dean was pretty sure he would be taking the lead very soon.

Sam had said their guns held 35 bullets. Assuming that Sam had followed his own rules and not reloaded, Dean figured he only had five or six bullets left. As a short stream of bullets went whizzing past his face, he knew Sam was out.

He rounded the corner that Sam was behind to find his baby brother inspecting the now empty cylinder of his gun. His head whipped up at the sound of Dean's footsteps, his once arrogant grin now replaced with something a lot more sheepish. Dean thought if his heart could pound any faster, it would explode.

"I got you now, baby boy. Looks like you're out of ammo and places to run. What did it say in that note of yours again?" Dean felt simply predatory as he threw down his gun and stalked towards Sam. His face brimmed with confidence but his insides were still burning from the thrill of the chase. He tried not to shake with excitement as he grabbed Sam's shirt collar and pulled his brother close. Dean pressed his lips to Sam's ear and whispered, "Your ass is mine."

Dean could feel Sam shiver in response to his words, and he smiled. Every muscle in his body was tense, waiting for the right moment to pounce on Sam and claim his reward. Sam pushed Dean's hands from his collar, slowly stepping back so he could rake his eyes over Dean. He was looking at Dean with lust filled eyes and was beckoning him to come close once again. Dean was about to tackle Sam to the ground when his expression changed suddenly.

Sam's whole demeanor changed from lusty sex maniac to five year old with a huge secret to spill in two seconds flat. Sam was tense and practically vibrating with nervous energy.

"You'll have to catch me first," Sam said as a gleeful smile took over his whole face. Before Dean could even register what was happening, Sam had gone from stone still to running full speed out of the room. Dean had no chance at catching his brother, and simply stood and watched with disbelief as Sam disappeared down one of many hallways.

Dean wasn't sure if he should be angry at being left half hard and alone in the hallway, or excited that he could resume his chase. The grin slowly migrating across his face told him that he couldn't even pretend to be mad at this point. Sam had given them something to do for the afternoon, and if Dean had his way, well into the night. With a renewed vigor Dean started off in the direction Sam had went. Judging by the bulge Dean had noticed in his brother's pants before he took off, Sam wouldn't let the chase go on for too much longer. The thought of Sam, hard and waiting to be caught, had Dean running faster, searching through rooms with lightning speed.

He decided that out of all the fights they had ever had, this was the best.


End file.
